Coffee Snobs of the Future

“Oh Earth, I love it there. It’s so peaceful and wide open, and just silent.”

“My life support system kept buzzing. I hate the smell of the things.”

“Oh, but it’s so beautiful! And I heard Rebecca once found a piece of silverware, and they let her keep it! You never know, that might be worth something someday.”

“She’ll probably be rich in a generation- or, her family will. I just saw a bunch of trees and some broken down buildings.”

“But that’s the paradise of the place. It’s just so- old!”

Eventually, Angela left. Tara shut the door behind her and allowed herself to grimace.

She hated being so damned cheerful all the time. Of course visiting Earth was a stupid idea. It was a dead planet that they had all decided to leave a hundred years ago. Why the hell would you go back? But it was something that was Done, because then you could say that you had been there. Angela was such a stupid cow sometimes. 

Trish went to pour herself another cup of coffee. Her leather shoes with the titanium (It’ll Never Break! Quality Guaranteed!) soles clicked against the marble floor. Marble. Everything was marble here. Impossible to believe that it had been expensive a hundred years ago. On this planet, it was the easiest thing in the world to get. But hers had been polished to a mirror shine that reflected her face back up to her. She sighed and wished she had people to really talk to. Someone to talk to that would actually listen. But there was no one except the automated coffee maker. They had bought a nice one before he left- one that he thought would be amusing. It had mechanical arms that moved from work station to work station, so that it looked like it was grinding the coffee, pouring the water,  and serving everything in a mug, all by (albeit metal, and mechanical) hand. 

She pressed the button and the ballet began. 

Its wide, sweeping gestures were very dramatic, but they always took up so much damned counter space. You couldn’t make breakfast and coffee at the same time. She would have to talk to a mechanic about that- if she ever got up the energy. There was just so much to do, she wasn’t sure when she would have time. 

A mechanical hand held out a mug.

She took it, and said, “Thank you,” without thinking about it. 

That was a stupid thing to do. You’re losing it. She thought to herself.

But then she shrugged and took a deep breath, inhaling the smell of coffee and the hint of caffeine behind it.

Of course, it wasn’t real coffee- that was impossible to get until the coffee plant populations had been fully established, and with the way the climate fluctuated here, that was highly unlikely. Only half of the crops they’d brought over had been able to survive the transplantation process. And the ones that did grow didn’t yield much. It was all just brown lumps of waxy polymers that held caffeine in them for a (Edible Experience, Just Like the Real Thing!) taste and color similar to coffee. You even had to grind the beans to get it, if you wanted to pay extra for that. She did. 

It was the same food they had used when they crossed through space, she had been told. Though the technology wasn’t quite so advanced, and everything was those cheap ‘multi-vitamin calorie bars’ that stored forever and took up a square inch each. Now, even the poorest could afford a real flavor every once in awhile. 

Trish took another sip of coffee and leaned against the counter, looking out through her window at the surrounding forest.

If anything had taken off, it was the bamboo. Giant forests of it immediately covered the entire countryside, flourishing even in the mineral poor soil. Agricultural scientists were working on releasing the minerals stored in the hard rock formations, but had not succeeded yet. The bamboo was beating them by a mile, stretching its tiny roots into the hard sublayer only 6 inches below, and breaking it up. But it was a slow process, and she had to learn to love bamboo in the meantime. With its graceful arcs and leaves that called up images of stylized caligraphy, especially at night, when they were in silhouette. (A romantic forest at every turn! Buy a planter for your home!) 

She hated the bamboo. 

No matter how much poetry it had. You get tired of that kind of thing after awhile.

She’d seen pictures of oak trees and birch trees and sycamores and redwoods. Now THOSE were the kinds of trees you could sink your teeth into. The kind of tree with some meat to it. A real tree that you could climb, with big branches you could sit in. 

She wanted one, right in front of her, right now. 

“Would you like to order something?”

Her thoughts paused themselves momentarily. A screen had lit up in the room with her. It was the home computer, already linked to the external network. A friendly male voice had been programmed into it, and she hadn’t changed it. Now, with her husband gone, it was just strange to have a male speaking to her. 

“Computer. Go to settings, change voice type to female.”

There was a brief pause, and then a friendly female voice replied. 

“Change confirmed. Would you like to order something?” 

“No. I would not like to order something.”

“Diagnostics detect that you are unhappy. Maybe you would like to order a new product. Would you like to see a study on retail therapy?”

“No. Go to sleep, computer.”

“Shutting down.”

She hated it. The stupid computer turning on, and trying to convince her of things she didn’t want. It happened daily. Daily, she turned it down. And daily it got more insistent. A pushy salesperson who wouldn’t accept no for an answer.